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Love and Triumph: The Coltrane Saga, Book 8

Page 13

by Patricia Hagan


  Marilee followed him to the table, where Hanisch had left a wicker basket. He began to remove a bottle of cognac, a loaf of bread, some cheese, boiled eggs, and fruit. “Why won’t you answer me?”

  He turned then. She saw the look in his eyes and knew there was something he dreaded telling her, and that realization chilled her with foreboding.

  “Later,” he said quietly, almost ominously, “we’ll talk. For now, trust and obey me, and I’ll do everything I can to see that no harm comes to you.”

  She took the cup of wine he held out to her and sat down at the table.

  Neither spoke for several moments. Then Marilee asked candidly, “When you kissed me in the cellar, you thought you were kissing Elenore, didn’t you?”

  He grinned, that maddening crooked grin that made her feel so damn vulnerable.

  “Are you jealous?”

  “No. I—I don’t care,” she stammered. “I was curious, and—”

  He touched his finger to her lips for silence. The arrogant grin faded and was replaced by a somber expression as he told her, “There’s a lot you don’t understand yet, and for your sake, as well as mine, stop asking so many questions.”

  She bit her lip, feeling very foolish. Draining the cup of wine, she started to rise, but he reached out to grab her hand and declared huskily, “I didn’t know who you were that night. If I had, maybe I wouldn’t have left so suddenly.”

  She looked at him, astonished at his nerve. Snatching her hand away, she cried, “Well, what makes you think I would have let you stay?”

  “Time will tell, dushka,” he murmured, his blue eyes warm and caressing. “Time will tell.”

  Chapter Seventeen

  Marilee felt a hand on her shoulder, gently shaking her awake. She had not been sleeping soundly and was instantly aware of her desperate situation.

  “It’s time,” Cord announced.

  Dim light was provided by a lantern in a far corner. Marilee strained to see his face, curious because he sounded so tense. When she had curled up on burlap bags in one of the stalls to be alone with her worried musings, he had been reading the map Hanisch had brought. Certainly, he had not looked worried then. In fact, he seemed secretly pleased over something.

  Then she saw the strange men sitting at the little table. After awakening her, Cord had walked over to talk to them. She could not make out what they were saying, yet she sensed the tension in the air.

  Without turning, he called gruffly, “Hurry up. We’re leaving now.”

  She got to her feet. She’d changed earlier into a soft wool traveling suit with a cape.

  When she joined them, she could tell that Cord was annoyed. He grudgingly introduced the two men. “Gretz. Ludwig. They have been ordered to go with us.”

  Marilee could not resist saying, “You mean you’re afraid you can’t handle me all by yourself?”

  His retort was more a snarl. “It wasn’t my idea. Now let’s go.”

  She did not like Gretz and Ludwig. Both of them stared at her insolently, as though raping her with their eyes. The one called Gretz even ran his thick tongue across his lips as his gaze raked over her hungrily.

  Cord held out his arm to her. She moved close to him without hesitation as they walked to the automobile. Gretz got behind the steering wheel. Ludwig started to crawl in the backseat but Cord clamped a rough hand on the back of his neck and steered him silently to the front beside Gretz. Then he helped Marilee in and climbed in behind her.

  “Don’t be frightened,” he whispered in her ear as they settled back against the seat. “I won’t let anyone hurt you, so just relax.”

  Somehow, she knew that, but she could not resist saying, “But who will protect me from you, Herr Brandt?”

  She could not see his face as he murmured, “When that time comes, I’m the one who’ll need protection from you, little one.”

  His soft laughter needled her and she moved as far from him as possible, overwhelmed by the desperation of her plight.

  Gretz and Ludwig took turns driving, and they stopped only when necessary. Marilee fought against sleeping, for when she did succumb she would awaken cradled in Cord Brandt’s arms. Despite the wonderful warm feeling, she chided herself for the pleasure. He smiled knowingly, and she loathed him all the more.

  Marilee could tell they were heading toward France; however, she did not realize their destination was Paris until the night they stopped at the house of one of their confidants and she overheard a conversation among them.

  After dinner, she drew Cord aside. “But why? My father isn’t in Paris! He’s still in Russia. Was a ransom note sent?”

  “Let’s go outside,” he suggested tersely.

  They were in a small farmhouse. Cord guided her toward the back door. Just as they were about to step outside, Ludwig came rushing after them. “Hey! Where do you think you are going?”

  Cord whipped around. “I think you forget who’s in charge here, Ludwig. I don’t have to explain my actions to you.”

  Ludwig leered at Marilee. “I have orders to keep an eye on you, Brandt, and when you sneak off to walk in the moonlight, I’m going along to make sure you keep your pants on. Mikhailonov might not want his daughter back if she’s soiled by our German seed,” he added with a nasty sneer.

  Cord moved so quickly that Marilee only saw his fist crash into Ludwig’s face before Ludwig went sprawling to the floor.

  She watched numbly as Cord yanked him to his feet and warned furiously, “Keep your dirty mouth shut, and don’t try to spy on me, or so help me, I’ll kill you. You got that?”

  Ludwig nodded, blood streaming from his nose. He turned on his heel and staggered back to where Gretz and their host stood watching from the dining room.

  Marilee had backed away instinctively. Then she saw the vineyard beyond, shielding foliage that would provide cover while she ran—to where? She did not know, only that there was a glimpse of freedom. She started down the steps, about to bolt into what seemed like a long-sought sanctuary.

  “Not thinking of leaving me, are you?”

  She slowed, commanding her frantic brain not to panic. Gasping, pretending to be terrified, she whirled about to throw herself against Cord. “No, no, I was scared of that man. The way he looks at me—” She made herself tremble.

  He put his arms around her. “I know. But I’ve told you before, I’m never going to let anything happen to you, Marilee. Now let’s walk, and you get hold of yourself.”

  He took her hand and led her to the border of the vineyard. As they walked, he explained that they were, indeed, on their way to Paris, and soon she would understand why. Till then, there was nothing else he could tell her, except to remind her, “You’ve nothing to fear from me. All I want is to see you safe.”

  She could not help interjecting coldly, “For a price, of course.”

  He drew, in his breath slowly, then admitted, “Yeah. That’s the way it has to be.”

  She turned back toward the house. He did not call after her, and she kept on going, all the way to the room that had been assigned to her. There was no lock on the door, so she pushed a chair in front of it. Yet she knew that should he wish to enter, neither chair nor lock would stop him.

  Instinctively, she knew that time would come, and she wondered whether she felt dread—or anticipation.

  As they drove on the next day, Marilee pressed herself against the window, wanting to distance herself from Cord. If he noticed, he did not let on. Finally, she asked, “Why are you fighting the Bolsheviks’ war? Germany is starving. Why aren’t you concerned about your own country?”

  He turned his head slowly, gazing at her absently. Then, in the front seat, Ludwig and Gretz snickered, snapping him out of his reverie. “What did you say?”

  She repeated her question.

  Ludwig and Gretz laughed again.

  Cord frowned and turned to gaze out the window at the passing countryside. “Germany can’t win without Russia. Russia will never help Germany under the
PG. We need the Bolsheviks in power.”

  Realizing the futility of arguing, Marilee confided, “I have a cousin with the Allied forces somewhere in France.”

  “I know.”

  She blinked, surprised. “You do? How?”

  “I know everything about you, dushka,” he reminded her with a tender glance. “I know your cousin Travis Coltrane just got married. Rudolf went to the wedding. Your cousin is in the Army in France. His father and your uncle, Colt Coltrane, is in the diplomatic service. He was supposed to be sent to Russia, but things are too tense there now. The American government recalled him and sent him to London.”

  Marilee was stunned. “How do you know all this?”

  “It’s my business to know. I’m a spy.”

  Marilee bristled, chiding herself for having warmed to him even a little. “That’s right,” she agreed. “A liar and scoundrel. God, I only pray my father hurries and pays my ransom so I can be rid of your company.”

  Marilee finally dozed. When she awoke she realized that they were just outside Versailles. “My God, we’re near Daniberry!”

  “Daniberry is our destination,” he informed her.

  Tears of relief flooded her eyes. “Oh, why didn’t you tell me? Is my father here already? You sent the ransom note, and he told you to bring me to Daniberry, and…” Her voice faded away as she saw the way he was looking at her.

  Cord reached to clasp her hand, but she yanked it away in horror. “You mean he isn’t here? Then why are we here? What kind of cruel trick are you playing on me now?”

  Ludwig yelled gleefully, “Tell her, Brandt!”

  “Yeah,” Gretz chimed in, “tell the haughty bitch the truth!”

  “Stay out of this, both of you,” Cord ordered, but he knew he had no choice. “When your father turned against the Czar and the Imperialist, he turned his home over to the Bolsheviks to use as a headquarters in France for their underground movements. And even though he betrayed us when he fled with our gold, we’ve got Daniberry and we intend to keep it.

  “It’s the perfect place for him to make contact.”

  For a moment, Marilee could only look at Cord in stunned silence. It had to be a lie. Her father would never turn his back on Nicholas, who was like a brother to him. And why would he have stolen the gold when he had a fortune of his own, unless—and the thought filled her with cold dread—it was true, and he had given away his wealth to the Bolsheviks, but then changed his mind and stolen the gold intended for the counterrevolution.

  Dear God!

  She leaned her head back and closed her eyes, trembling from head to toe as she fought back the bitter tears of denial.

  “Marilee—”

  Her eyes flashed open. She whirled furiously on him. “Damn you!” she screamed. “Damn you all to hell!”

  The car turned into the driveway, and in the far distance, above the bare limbs of tall, magnificent trees, Daniberry came into view.

  As the automobile approached the circular driveway lined with marble statues, Marilee knew there was no need to look for familiar faces. Platt, the gardener, would be nowhere around, for the huge fountain in the middle of the drive was dry, dirt and leaves scattered on the bottom. The windows of the three-story mansion were streaked with dirt. Ila, the housekeeper, had obviously been relieved of her duties.

  Then she saw them—the strangers staring as Cord got out of the car, pulling her behind him. Her home, she realized with a sickening jolt, was hers no longer. It was a haven for spies!

  “Inside,” Cord whispered, grasping her arm and steering her forward. “I’ve been here. I know my way around. We’ll take quarters on the top floor. I’ve got a few men who respect me and will follow my orders. I’ll have the area sealed off. You’ll be safe.”

  As though in a stupor, Marilee allowed him to lead her inside. She was shocked to see that the rare lapis lazuli table cabinet on a Charles II gilt wood stand was missing from the foyer, along with the Regency ormolu candelabra.

  Cord released his hold on her, allowing her to wander sadly from room to room. He followed her to the back corner room, the glass sun porch that had been her mother’s favorite place, and it was there she gave way to her tears.

  “Come along,” he urged.

  She again allowed him to lead her like a little child. He had no way of knowing that inside she was burning with hatred. She would have her revenge—on him, and Rudolf, and all the others who had conspired in this fiendish deed.

  Cord sighed with relief when they got to the top of the stairs and he saw Serge Kurakin on duty. Serge could be trusted. He was one of his own men, handpicked for this assignment.

  They exchanged curt nods, but Cord did not pause as he steered Marilee along.

  Suddenly she froze when she realized where he was taking her. “My father’s room,” she said thinly.

  “It has the best vantage point, a corner room, large windows on two walls, and—” Cord attempted to explain.

  “I’m not sleeping in here with you!” She turned on him fiercely. “This is too much, Herr Brandt. First you abduct me, then you have the audacity to bring me to my own home to hold me prisoner, then you plan to seduce me in my father’s bedroom. Have you no shame?”

  He lost patience then and grabbed her wrists, giving her a shake. “Now listen to me, dammit!” He maneuvered them both into the room, kicking the door shut behind him. He wrestled her to the bed and slung her down, holding on to her wrists as she glared up at him with raw hatred.

  “How many times do I have to tell you—you’ve nothing to fear from me. It’s them you’ve got to worry about.” He nodded toward the door. “Men like Ludwig and Gretz. And the only way I can protect you is to keep you with me, at least until I make sure I’ve got absolute control over everyone here.”

  “You could sleep outside the door!” she shot back tartly.

  “That’s taking a chance. Barricaded in here, I’ll feel safer.”

  “But what about me? Who’s going to protect me from you? I know how you operate in the dark.”

  He released her, unable to resist laughing. “Well, the concern is shared, my dear. I seem to recall that you enjoyed what went on in the dark, and you’ll probably dream about it one night and sleepwalk your way to my bed. I don’t think I’ve ever experienced such hunger in a woman.”

  He ducked in time to miss being hit by the first thing she could get her hands on—a marble paperweight the scavengers had overlooked. It crashed against the wall as he slammed and locked the door after him.

  Serge rushed across the landing at the top of the stairs to ask, “Is everything all right? She sounds really upset.”

  Cord sighed and rubbed the back of his neck. “It was a big shock to her, being brought here on top of everything else, and she’s also very tired. It’s been a long trip. I’ll get her some tea and put something in it to make sure she gets the rest she needs.”

  Serge glanced about before whispering, “You are sure she suspects nothing?”

  “Why should she?” Cord grinned wryly, giving Serge’s shoulder a hearty pat. “I’m the enemy, remember? You will have to keep watch over her while I slip out tonight and see if I can make contact with headquarters.”

  Serge grabbed his arm, suddenly frightened. “That’s taking a big chance, comrade. Where will you go? And how will you get there?”

  “It has to be done. Don’t worry about how, that’s my problem. Just make sure nothing happens to Drakar’s daughter.”

  Serge sighed and returned to his post as Cord went downstairs.

  The huge mansion was secured by Zealots from Zurich and Bolshevik supporters from France. Cord had been told by Hanisch that there were only a dozen men guarding Daniberry. More than that might arouse the suspicion of the Allies. There was no reason to suspect that. Daniberry was a holding point for the abduction and subsequent ransom of Mademoiselle Mikhailonov, and Cord intended to keep it that way. The men were dressed as gardeners and some of their wives posed as maids.
/>   Cord went through the entire house. Then, satisfied there was nothing else to be done for the moment, he went to the kitchen to make tea for Marilee. He wanted her to rest, yes, but most of all, he wanted her to sleep soundly all night.

  One day, perhaps he could tell her that her father was actually his comrade, and that they were both working together with the counterrevolutionaries. Drakar, however, had been chosen to defect to the Bolsheviks in order to try to free the Czar and the Imperial family.

  But for now, Cord could confide nothing. He could only continue his assignment to protect Marilee Mikhailonov with his own life, if need be.

  However, he had not counted on wanting her so badly that it was like a knife in his loins.

  Chapter Eighteen

  Daniberry did not truly seem like home to Marilee. After all, she had never actually lived here, and the occasions when she had met her father here for a reunion could be counted on one hand. The room that was to have been hers held no memories. It did not matter where she was, she supposed. All she could hope for was imminent release and reunion with her father.

  Cord Brandt tried to make things easier for her. Yet she masked her growing feelings with exaggerated resentment. No matter what he did for her, she complained.

  The big four-poster bed was quite heavy and hard to slide across the floor, but she managed to shove it to the other end of the room. After a cup of tea, she fell so soundly asleep she did not awaken till the next morning—to see Cord sprawled across his bed. He had not attempted to move the four-poster back to its original place and, from all appearances, had not come near her all night long.

  She awakened him, demanding to know how long she could expect to be kept a prisoner. He looked at her groggily, then, without uttering a word, he got up and walked out, locking the door behind him. She was sure he went somewhere else in the house to go back to sleep. The thought that Elenore might be around made her bristle, and she hated herself for even caring.

  When he returned later in the morning with a pot of coffee and a breakfast tray, he looked refreshed and wore clean clothes.

 

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